At the top of the month, I released Hell Bent-Another Fanedit, which I said would be the first of two projects that made use of the ending of ‘The Husbands Of River Song’, this is the second of those projects, an ideal jumping off point for Peter Capaldi fans (I do like Jodie and series 11 and 12 aren’t nearly as bad, problematic for their preachiness yes, but not unbearable to watch)
It would be so easy to stop if they were there. The children.
All huddled ’round him, some hiding behind the sofa, but fear not, he would coax you out with the voice of assurance, but maybe not greet you quite with a smile.
You see, he was a little scared too, just as they would be.
Suppose they were here though. Whatever would he say to them?
Suppose they were all there watching him at this very moment, interrupting him at this most delicate and desperate of hours, where the slightest distraction or indulgence in pretence could result in a costly fate, for him, and his friends, even the very Earth and the way of life for all of civilisation as he and his companions knew it.
And he imagines, for the audience that wasn’t there also.
But then, his very imagination was what was most concerning him.
Imagining just one singular child, aged no lesser than four, wandering the rail way tracks, seeking her friends who were hidden from her sight, and she found this hapless little hobo attempting a meekly sort of sprint along the tracks of the vast subterranean London Underground rail system.
And she sits herself down next to him. Right there, on the tracks, playing with her fingers, nibbling them with her delicate teeth, twisting and twirling the curls in her hair, waiting for this man to say something and justify his presence to him.
Imagine that child was several.
Confound it all, there was that problem again, the imagination running away from The Doctor, and the farthest it could possibly be from control. It wasn’t content to satisfying less.
How does he react to this?
Let him think now child, let him think. Don’t stare.
He thinks, he muses, and in a fleeting moment of quiet, having lost himself on the rail tracks of the London Underground, he commits to the pretence. He would dare the distraction.
If only because he’s put enough distance between him and his enemies to indulge his habit.
He has earned this. A little play to broaden the mind, to compliment the work.
To satisfy the child not just in him, and perhaps, if there were anyone in the heavens or beyond watching, to satisfy the child in all of them or any that belong to them too.
He would feign fright at first, to give the invisible children some form and substance, to heighten his anxiety in a manner not even fit for calm. Part of the dare was the confidence to be as bombastic as possible.
He would remind this audience that there was a back-story, and placed his current circumstances as something further along in his future…for the children, the story hadn’t happened yet, it was all yet to come, that would give him an apt opportunity to determine whether or not he would survive the ordeal, and if he did not, well, the children would only know of what happened when he was alive, and imagine the rest. Indeed, he would go on living in their own minds.
He was starting to wonder if the increase in anxiety and the belief the net was tightening around him were cutting off the oxygen to his brain.
Children of his imagination have imaginations too? Dream state within dream state? It was a fascinating puzzle, one he had no time to immediately solve with any form of attentiveness.
After all, every infant in life comes from nothing and everything all at once.
If they were real, if they perhaps become real someday, then all of what he had thought of just before would form part of what he had to say
And this is how he’d say it.
“Oh, oh thank goodness, it’s you, I thought for one moment it was…ah, well let me sit down for a moment here, I’m glad I met you as a matter of fact, there’s something I want to tell you, when we start out on our next adventure, Jaime, and Victoria, and I, we meet some old friends, yes, but we also meet some old enemies. Very old enemies, the Yeti as a matter of fact, and this time, they’re just a little bit more frightening than the last time. So I warn you, if your mummy and daddy are scared, you just get them to hold your hand”
He clasped his hands together to make a sharp and audible noise, and this drew the attention of The Yeti as they came charging down the tunnel.
“Oh, got to go, see you soon” he said, panicking, he got to his feet and dashed off.
Confound it all, this is why I have no time for intermission he thought.
There are evils present that act against everything I believe in. They must be fought.
And so, he bids the children who aren’t there, a very fond goodnight.
A little early slice of fun for the festivities. The fourth Iron Man movie we were long denied.
-Captain America: Civil War
-Spider-Man: Homecoming NBA TV Spots
Joel Cass, lord coordinator of the encyclopaedic universal matrix received another notification as he made his morning coffee.
The mug was piping hot, and not one trace of liquid had passed through his lips, travelled down his throat, and warmed the pits of his stomach.
And given how thorough his response was going to be, he didn’t bet on the mug retaining its warmth.
She’d been telling him this for months.
Strict, concise, to the point, and direct.
‘This obsession with our sources, it’s stalker like’
Joel had the solution.
Another ten or so thousand videos on the subject.
He’d add it to the list.
Most of the videos scheduled for today would be live casts, casts with all of his friends, the thousands of members he had acuminated over the centuries.
People who hung on every infectious word he uttered.
They knew what was up; they knew who was in the right.
The almighty Joel. He was the hero of this story, if one fancied this maddening game of one-upmanship over hearsay and rumour currency a story worth telling.
A game of one-upmanship between the most supreme good and the most condemned form of evil.
But as the one guy who always called him out of concern would tell him, heroes aren’t defined through proclamation alone.
They are defined by action.
And every now and then, this woman, the wife of the individual he had classified as a disinformation artist, would send him crudely worded e-mails reflecting her frustrations, pleas, accusations and questions, all directed at the content of Joel’s character.
They would urge him to reconsider his mission in life
And in turn, his true friends would reach out before any of the members of his podcasts would, trying to be the voice of purest reason and thought
Where are your reviews? Why aren’t you paying attention to Universe M? Where your favourite heroes are stationed?
How goes their days?
Why not discuss something of value that you know, from collecting and archiving their date on a week to week basis, has happened to them? What lessons they learned along the way? Explore what is known to you, not what is out of your reach.
Why should rumour and speculation concerning your timeless idol, a traveller across all the realms you observe, be of such importance to you?
After all, you do not believe with your own eyes in the very timelessness of the idol. You believe that it walks in a straight and linear line, with a defined beginning, middle, and a history you’re familiar with
You do not see an end in sight, but constantly fear the journey comes to a halt if people do not take to the revelations that come with what is now known about the idol.
Were it come to a halt, it would further no change. You would have your way.
Yet if it stops, the change remains, there would be no want nor need for it to walk back on its newfound purpose and point of origin.
It would remain timeless in a whole other way.
So you resist it.
You argue to those who will listen in your reports that those that guide the idol are telling us a lie, they are telling us it is something it’s not, that it remains very much the same being it was known to be when it embarked on the journey. No way can this stand as truth, no way can this stand as change within reason.
You spread that word, and yet the word you are obsessed with is one that suggests the idol in its’ present form is leaving us.
Your sources, their word against those in the wife’s camp, had assured you otherwise. Videos and pictures of the idol in transits, heading towards its new destinations, would later crop up seemingly to back this up, to vindicate your sources.
To vindicate yourself.
Critical as you are of the ways the idol goes about itself these days, your devotion to its exact activities cannot be wrong.
So you spread word across the community chain the source of this gossip is false, that the rumour cannot be created if there is a reality contradicting it.
And you remember everything your source
You insist people trust in your word, in your knowledge, your memory, of events that you were privy to, memories of truths that were spoken only to you. Assurances made to you.
But if you can also remember, you weren’t really there.
You weren’t where your ‘sources’ were Joel.
You’ve never truly been where they are, you are only going on the stories they lead you by.
And in the meantime all the universes you monitor closely, the M, the Ds, the Cs, the Wilderness and beyond, they all have their own heroes, their own idols, on their own travels, overcoming their own hardships, and we never hear much about what you personally make of them.
There are no heroes bar you Joel Cass, co-ordinator of the encyclopaedic matrix.
Now look at the contents of your mug, and then examine the content of your character.
Both so cold.
“When Peter Parker makes a crucial mistake and accidentally reveals his true identity, his beloved Aunt May becomes the victim of a cruel and deadly attack. While playing chess, Peter is approached by a mysterious stranger who offers to make his world a little better…at the cost of his relationship with his soul mate May Jane Watson. Peter makes a deal with this devil and his world is turned upside down. Now Peter finds himself playing a dangerous game, while the world and everyone he loves within it becomes the plaything of not just Mephisto, but also Blackheart, his son”
Well, here it is at last. The release of the first draft of my keenly anticipated Spider-Man 4 project. I hope you enjoy it, give feedback if you can, it was a very tricky edit to pull off and I am aware there are numerous technical/framerate issues, hopefully they’re not too off putting. I intend to comb through this again at some point. (Apologies for the lousy quality of the Wandavision music attached to this trailer, I could not find a clear enough version)
Had some fun after reading that David Tennant would be teaming with Sophie Aldred for a Big Finish audio adventure in 2022, so I fused Tenth Doctor footage with “The Promise” mini-sode found on Doctor Who: The Collection Series 26
Inspired by SDN Editions putting out micro-episodic versions of his fanedits, I have decided to do the same for my much anticipated Doomsday Clock edit. I intended to release this in 2021, but felt with the hype for both Wonder Woman 1984 and The Snyder Cut, I’d push out a large part of what I have so far into December.